It is killing me that I have been sitting here for the better part of today trying to write something totally romantic and perfect for the card I am making for my Valentine. Me, the mushy love poem writing fool. Why isn't it happening? I think it is because I have lost whatever ability I had to get what is in my heart to pour out through my fingertips. It isn't that it is not there. It is there. I can feel it churning. I know it is there. I write, revise, delete. Over and over and over. I am frustrated.
Posted by gwendolyn on February 14, 2001 at 02:41 PM